


River and the Daleks

by GrumpyJenn



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Spoilers: Asylum of the Daleks, epilogue written three years later...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-03
Updated: 2015-09-29
Packaged: 2017-11-13 10:39:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/502624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrumpyJenn/pseuds/GrumpyJenn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SPOILERS</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kerjen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kerjen/gifts), [TygerTyger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TygerTyger/gifts), [thesesongsaretrue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesesongsaretrue/gifts), [beverlymaldoran](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=beverlymaldoran).



“One. More. Time.”

“MERCYYYYYYYYYY...”

 _No,_ River thought grimly. _No mercy for you. Not after what you and your kind did to him._

\---/--- 

Hundreds, thousands, or maybe only dozens of years away in another temporal direction, River Song looked up as the TARDIS materialised outside her cell. She wondered how old her Doctor was now, how well he knew her. Whether he trusted her.

But he didn’t emerge from the blue box and she frowned, then shrugged and tried her cell door. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d unlocked it without looking, would it?

It was open.

River slipped her blue book into her bigger-on-the-inside pocket and left her cell, timing it so the security camera wouldn’t pick her up, and knocked on the door of the TARDIS. It swung open - toward her, which didn’t bode well at all - and she stepped inside. “Sweetie?”

No response.

She walked further into the console room, and got a warm feeling in the back of her mind that seemed to say _down_ , so she knelt and looked through the glass floor.

The Doctor was there in the repair swing, in rolled up shirtsleeves and loosened bow tie, tinkering with something. Not that unusual, but why did she have a feeling of dread and pain and anger and... was it fear... washing over her? She walked around to the stairs and descended, heels clicking on the hard floor. “Sweetie?”

He looked up and smiled, but it did not reach his eyes.

“River, my bad girl, where are we these days?” His voice was bright and... brittle, she thought, and he didn’t really look at her, his eyes darting about as though he was watching for something that might sneak up behind him.

“I’ve just done 1969,” River said guardedly. _He won’t look at me,_ she thought, _does he feel guilty for something? Oh, no, not_... “Have you done Manhattan?” Her voice was very low now; she knew what would/had happen/ed there, and it was the sort of thing he’d feel guilt about for years. If it was fresh in his memory... but he was answering her.

“Manhattan? Oh, yes, ages ago, musical theatre and pig-men and... that was Martha, right? and the D-d-daleks who were half-human...” He shuddered as though he couldn’t stop himself and looked at everywhere but her.

River was alarmed. He hadn’t mentioned the Angels, and he was talking about Martha, which meant it was his tenth self he remembered in Manhattan, and he had stuttered on the word _Daleks_. He babbled, frequently, but stuttering was not his usual at _all_.

He wasn’t guilty, she was sure of it. He was terrified.

“Sweetie, are you all right?” She walked toward him, ducking wires and pipes and tubes, and he hopped out of the sling and backed away, still refusing to meet her gaze.

“All right? Me? ‘Course I am, you know me, ‘m always all right. Couldn’t be right-ier, could I, what with your parents back together and all, and the--” He broke off, staring in apparent fascination at his hands, which were trembling violently.

“Oh, _Sweetie_ ,” River forced out the words. She’d known about the temporary breakdown of her parents’ marriage of course, and she had her own issues with that and the reasons for it. But right now the Doctor wasn’t thinking about _that_ , about whatever that bitch Kovarian had done to Amy to cause her infertility. He was thinking about Skarro, and the Daleks, and he was absolutely _undone_ with fear. And she’d heard he’d been fine by the end of the adventure but, well... Rule One... it applied to himself most of all. She stopped a metre or so away from him and held out her arms. “Come here, my love,” she said quietly, and he let out a single choked sob and stumbled toward her; he nearly fell into her arms, shaking like a leaf.

And the two of them knelt on the floor under the console, holding each other until the quaking stopped.

\---/---

Hundreds, thousands, or maybe only dozens of years away in another temporal direction, Amy Pond asked, “What happened to the Dalek?” and quailed at the look on River’s face.

River set her mouth into a grim line and said the only thing she could.

“It died.”


	2. Epilogue

It wasn't until years, maybe decades later - it was always hard to tell in the Library Hard Drive - that River wondered about that word.

 _Mercy_.

How on Skaro had the Dalek - _any_ Dalek, even one from the end of time in a pocket universe timeline - even understood the concept of mercy?

There must be a reason.

And that reason's name was almost certainly The Doctor.

Mercy. Compassion and mercy. Hallmarks of the Doctor, often to his own detriment.

River Song sighed to herself, and smiled, and went to read another story from her diary - heavily edited - to the children.


End file.
